American Whatever Story
by StrangeMindFiction
Summary: Evelyn Riddle and her family have just moved into the 'Murder House.' All goes well. Until the house finds out.
1. An American Creaking

Takes place after the season finale of American Horror Story. :)

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><p><em>Chapter 1: An American Creaking<em>

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><p>"Unfortunately, my real estate company requires by law that I mention the occurrence of the home's previous occupants..."<p>

The woman before me fidgeted nervously, glancing around the room as if expecting to see something out of the ordinary. Her short hair curled down around her ears, her face pink with worry.

My dad, oblivious as ever, was intrigued. He stared down at her through the lens of his glasses. "Don't tell me. Did they die in this house?"

The real estate agent swallowed uneasily. I watched as her fingers roughly tugged on her purse strap. "As a matter of fact, they did."

My brother spoke up. "Cool! Were they shot?"

"Connor!" I whispered. He ran a hand through his short brown hair, sticking his tongue out as me in the process. For being only two years younger than me, the kid was so inappropriate.

"No…" the woman said. "The wife of the house died while in the process of giving birth. Her husband, in his grief, hung himself from the… t-the top of the stairs." She clenched her eyes shut for a moment before proceeding to re-open them. I didn't blame her. The information she presented to us was enough to scare any home buyers away. "The house has been off of the market for a few years. My company wasn't really interested in dealing with it for awhile."

"Hmm… I see." My dad looked across the large room we currently occupied.

A thin layer of dust had already begun to settle on the coffee table near my feet since the death of its latest owners. Large light fixtures and chandeliers hung from the ceiling above. Outdated wallpapers lined the downstairs' walls and a few of the floorboards creaked when treaded upon.

The house was creepy. It wasn't scary in the way a haunted house on Halloween might be, with cob webs and coffins protruding out from the walls. It was scary in its largeness and mysteriousness. It was a wonder to both myself and my dad of why such a large house was so cheap on the market. Obviously, the history hidden behind its doors was the reason for its constant exposure to rejection.

"I am well aware I haven't been very convincing to any buyers, but I'm desperate," the woman continued on. "The house is beautiful, inside and out. Despite its history, the house is to die for. The classic windowpanes," she gestured to a variety of painted glass between the walls, "are simply marvelous. The house is large enough to entertain dozens of guests, especially those wild teenage parties," she teased, winking at me.

I held back my 'what the eff ' face.

She motioned for us to follow her down a long, dark hallway. My brother stepped forward first, eager to hear more of the freaky place. I followed a few paces behind, just alongside my dad.

"What do you think, Evelyn? Is it _hip_ enough for a seventeen year old girl like yourself?"

"Oh my god, dad! _Hip_ is not _in_ right now. I don't know why you bother to keep saying it."

He raised his eyebrows expectantly at me. "That wasn't a proper answer, Ev."

I looked up as we walked, noticing the dark painted ceiling. We emerged into a softly lit kitchen, dressed up in a bunch of modern appliances. An island counter separated us from the backdoor, through which a gazebo was visible in the center of the lawn.

"The kitchen is a work of art in itself," the agent gushed. "Just look at all the features this house has to offer." She loved to talk. However, she was careful to steer far away from mentioning any other misfortunes the home had been privy to. She walked over to the archway leading back into the hall. "Shall we continue our tour upstairs?"

Both my brother and dad nodded. I just went along with the crowd.

"Have there been any weird ghost sightings?" My brother was always the curious one.

"Some," the lady squeaked. "But I wouldn't think too much of it. Some people are just crazy."

Somewhere between the agent's blabbing and my own footing, we passed by a door beneath the stairs. The woman in front of us peeked at it briefly before quickly hurrying on.

"Where does that door lead to?" I asked.

The agent, not stopping, just muttered, "The basement."

We arrived at the base of the stairway, my heels hitting some of the creaky floorboards. I looked upwards. To me, it almost seemed as if the house was mocking us at this point.

We ascended to the second floor, to which a string dangling from a door to the attic swayed from the roof. I eyed it warily. I was never a fan of attics.

The nervously twitching, babbling real estate agent went through the motives of showing us every detail, giving us little to no time to respond or comment. If I knew anything at all, I was thinking she didn't want to give us a chance to change our minds. After all, she had said herself she was desperate.

The one room that had caught my attention, according to the nervous woman, was the one the teenage girl before me had claimed as hers.

"You never admitted the couple to having a teenage daughter," my dad confessed.

"She's probably not admitting to a lot of things," I whispered to Connor, who just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, she disappeared. No one knows where she ran off to. There are rumors she was even involved with the disappearance of the woman's newborn child, but… well…" she swallowed for the millionth time since stepping foot into the house. "Like I said, no one knows."

As we left the room, I was sure I had heard a scoff. But when I turned around, nothing more could be seen but a bed and a few pieces of used furniture.

The floorboards creaked as I left.

"Well, what do you think?" The agent asked. "It's certainly spacious enough. Good asking price, too, if I must say."

I couldn't get over an odd feeling that had crept into my system since leaving the previous girl's room upstairs.

People say you can sense when someone is watching you. However, it's not very comforting to get that sensation and not be able to see the source.

My dad, readjusting his glasses, looked at me and my brother. "Well? What do you say? Not too spooky, hmm?"

I didn't reply.

"I think it's freaking cool!" Connor shouted. "Can I pick first bedroom?"

I was astounded. "No way! If we are going to live in this… this house, I should at least get first pick! I mean, heck… I don't even care for the place."

The woman before us began to fidget again, most likely from my expressed disapproval.

The house _was _beautiful, no doubt about it. But I couldn't really accept what had happened here. I was never one to be superstitious, but I was also never one to set foot in a haunted hotel or play Ouija board to find out.

My dad peered over his specs at me. "You don't like the house, sweetheart?"

My guilty conscious started to set in. I knew my dad had happily accepted a promotion, not caring if it involved him and his family moving halfway across the country, in which he had been working for years to achieve. I was also aware this was going to be one of the only houses we would ever be able to afford in this city, and probably the biggest we would ever see at such a price.

Was I about to let my nerves about some mumbo jumbo crap get in the way of my dad? After all, what if all the talk about ghosts was just a bunch of bull, and we lost this great offer of a house because of me?

I sighed.

No. I wasn't going to let that happen.

Peering around the house once more, I answered back. "No, actually. I love it." My dad's eyebrows shot for the sky. "It's kinda… perfect… in its own little charming way. I'm into old things. It's _hip_, as you would put it."

The agent woman smiled. "Great! Now all we will have to do is sign some paperwork…"

Both my dad and the woman left to enter another room, while my brother and I looked around.

"I'm freaked about that last room we were in. The old girl's room."

I gaped. Connor was _afraid?_ "What? Why?"

Connor pulled out his phone and began scrolling on what I assumed to be an article. "There's this website called 'Murder House Tours' and it talks about everything that happened here. It says some kid in 1994 was shot to death in that room by police after he did a local school shooting. It even says how some creepy scientist's wife went mad and killed both him and herself after finding their baby went missing from that room. Afterwards, inspectors found cut up body parts in jars all over the basement and one time this girl-…"

"Stop! Stop it! I don't want to hear anymore. Especially after finding out the beautiful place I get to now call home is officially a tour site!" I stomped over to one of the fireplaces and concentrated on thinking about other things. Nice things.

Like rainbows and ponies and… stuff.

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><p>Dinner was somewhat quiet that night. My father had decided we should spend the night in our new home, for he would rather us get used to it now versus later. We had ordered pizza and ate together in the kitchen.<p>

I guess everyone was wary to venture off on their own. Even my brother, who was usually fond of playing video games up in his room at our old house while he ate, was quietly eating in the kitchen.

Being the chickens we were, but not wanting to admit it to one another, we each slept in the living room in sleeping bags. I found it almost comical how no one wanted to even go to the bathroom without an escort.

As we cozied up in our sleeping bags, I tried to block out the ominous ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. I pulled my bag up over my head to block out my surroundings and soon heard the snores of my father. The sound brought me comfort, and I dozed off to sleep without realizing.

_I was in a library. Books raised up by shelves towered over my head and were scattered across tables. Some were left open, their pages flipping from the air. Forgotten. Teens about my age were frantically running and hiding beneath tables and around bookshelves. I, too, decided it would be in my best interest to disappear as quickly as possible, but for what I wasn't sure of yet._

_Gun shots echoed all around and I automatically turned to look towards two double doors leading out to a hallway._

_An older man, perhaps the librarian, cautiously made his way toward the door. Seconds past, and I couldn't stop breathing a sigh of relief when nothing happened. Perhaps the shooter had walked past the doors, not bothering to shoot up some bookworms. Suddenly, loud shots were made and before I knew what was occurring, the man was being shot down._

_I screamed. No sound came out._

_As the man fell, I noticed two new bullet holes in the door and immediately dropped to my knees. I was shaking all over. _

_I sloppily crawled over to a table near a wall and slid under. Backing myself up against the wall, I pulled my knees to my chest and pushed my hands over my mouth to help stifle my cries. _

_The doors opened. _

_Large, dark combat boots made their trek across the tile flooring, stopping every now and then to fire. Sometimes the boots would disappear from my sight all together, and I would hold my breath, just waiting._

_A girl's scream caused me to squeeze my eyes shut. Sounds of the boots moving once again caused my eyes to open. More shots were fired. _

_My eyes were sore and wet from my tears leaking down my cheeks. I didn't want to die. _

_I didn't want to die._

_I very nearly screamed when I saw another pair of shoes creeping up behind the boots. They were an older pair of well worn tennis shoes and I was scared for the person wearing them._

"_Hey, that's enough," a man's voice said. It would have sounded brave, had it not been for the slight quiver heard throughout his sentence._

_Boots turned around, and another shot was rung. The old, tattered tennis shoes flopped backwards. A sharp blow was heard as the body made contact with a table behind him, and I watched the shoes as they dangled in midair._

_A loud wail of a cry was heard and the boots moved towards the sound. Moments after the boots vanished behind a counter, the screeching of a table being pushed aside bounced off the wall, rendering me frozen. The girl's cried continued on, but I was unable to see anything._

"_Why?" she cried. _

_The gun was prepared to fire, a loose bullet falling to the hard ground. Seconds of deathly quiet silence followed. A final shot was heard all around the library, and it was now my turn to cry out._

I awoke with a start. My body was in a light sweat and my heart was pounding in my chest.

I gazed up at the ceiling, my breathing rate slowly returning to normal.

That was when I heard the creaks of the floorboards. I closed my eyes.

Slowly turning my head to the side in order to not make any noticeable movement, I peeked out from under my eyelashes only to notice my dad was missing.

I fully opened my eyes, somewhat less frightened of the possibility of an intruder, and stood up.

My brother, Connor, was still fast asleep. If what he was doing could actually be described as such. His arms and legs were sprawled out at odd angles, his body half in his sleeping back, half on the floor, with his mouth wide open for all the world to see.

I chuckled before looking away in disgust.

"Dad?" I called out.

A flickering light could be seen from the kitchen and I walked towards it. When I entered, I saw the last thing I ever expected to see.

My dad was holding his hand just barely above the stove, the flames almost licking his palm.

"DAD!" I screamed. I ran towards him and he swiftly removed his hand from the frightening scene. "What the hell were you doing?"

He blinked slowly, his eyes eventually gaining focus. "Huh? Oh." He looked down at the stove. "Oh!" He speedily reached for the gas knob, effectively stopping any the flames trying to break free from beneath the iron stove-top bars.

"Dad? Are you okay?" I was super freaked out, my heart now pounding harder than it had been from my dream.

Shaking his head, he finally seemed to come back to reality.

He swallowed and wet his lips. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just going to heat up some water for tea, but… I left my glasses… near my pillow…and I guess I wasn't paying any attention to the whereabouts of my hand…" he trailed off.

"Why were you making tea? At," I shifted my gaze to the time on the stove, "3:24 in the morning?"

My dad shrugged. "Sounded good. Besides, it's not uncommon of me. I used to do it almost every morning, you just didn't notice before. What woke you up?"

Still shaken from the whole experience, I whispered, "Nightmare."

"Would you like me to fix you up some tea as well? Help calm your mind?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll just go back to bed. I'm starting to feel more tired now." And I was. All of this action both asleep and awake was draining my brainpower.

"Oh, okay. Well, goodnight Ev."

"Night." I walked back out into the dark living room. Connor hadn't moved much and I rolled my eyes before going back into my sleeping bag. The leftover warmth felt good when compared to the ice cold wood flooring surrounding the house.

I settled my head down against the soft pillow and closed my eyes.

The floorboards creaked.

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><p>Well, I hope you liked it. :) I loved this show and I was so upsetstunned at how the whole show ended. It was an amazing season.

Should I continue? Let me know. :)

-Natasha


	2. An American Meet and Greet

Here is chapter two! :) I want to thank everyone who alerted, favorited, and most importanty: left me a review! :D You are all so nice and awesome! I hope you like this chappie. It's probably going to be the last one before things really start to get interesting. ;)

Also, there are some curse words in here, but I'm thinking since you watched the show, you won't mind too much. :D

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><p><em>Chapter 2: An American Meet and Greet<em>

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><p>"Help me lift this box, will you?" Connor was in the back of the moving van, trying to lift one of the large, heavier boxes. I walked closer, having seen some sort of writing on the side, and noticed my name scribbled down onto the smooth cardboard.<p>

"Hey, that's my box!"

My brother looked down and then back at me. "Well in that case, here ya go!" He shoved half the box on me and my arms screamed when I attempted to catch it.

"Connor!"

He picked up some other boxes and walked out of the back of the U-Haul. I fumbled around and tried to place the box to at least rest on my knee, but I couldn't do it. I was such a weakling.

Suddenly, hands moved out in front of me, lifting the box with no apparent effort. "Here, let me get that."

I looked up to see a younger man with black hair and a kind face. He was wearing a uniform, so I assumed he was one of the movers. He asked me where I wanted the box moved to and I told him my room would probably be best.

I didn't want to have him carry it all the way upstairs, but there was no way I would be able to accomplish such a feat. It also made me feel just a little bit better that he was a guy, which automatically classified him as strong.

…Unlike my frail little self.

My dad had thought it would be a great idea to draw names for bedrooms out of a hat. He was already entitled to the master bedroom, so it was just between me and Connor of who got the next choice.

My brother's name was drawn first. Lucky him got to decide where he wanted to spend the rest of his life cowering under the covers in the darkness.

He had initially chosen the basement, but once my father and I told him how stupid that would be and I reminded him of the body parts in jars, he changed his mind.

My dad looked at me curiously when I had mentioned the jars, but he didn't ask anything and I was glad he didn't. I didn't want to have to think about it more that necessary.

Long story made short, I was stuck with the girl's freaky room.

I followed the man carrying my box into the house and pointed upstairs. He followed me into the room and set the box down near the door just as I told him.

"Thank you," I said. He smiled and left.

I scooted, pushed, and tugged the box over to the side of my newly assembled bed. Ripping off the tape, I began to unload my collection of books and placed them on a small bookshelf near one of the room's windows.

Half of my day was spent unloading clothes, jewelry, pieces of furniture, and even stuffed animals. The other half was deciding where to put it all.

I was just reaching behind my night stand to plug in my alarm clock when a soft knock came from my door. I turned around.

Standing in my doorway was a young girl, most likely my age, giving me a small smile. She had long ash brown hair and was wearing Converse over leggings. "Hey."

I stood up and smiled awkwardly. "Hi."

Her smile grew. "May I come in?"

Who was this girl? Why was she in my house? I didn't think too much of it, considering the entire neighborhood could see we were moving in and the door was constantly being opened. At least one thing had stayed basically the same since switching cities: the neighbors still loved to snoop, that's for sure.

"You must be Evelyn," she said. She sat down at the edge of my bed and began looking through some of my empty boxes. "Did you just move here?"

I frowned when she couldn't see. I was unpacking, wasn't I? There was only a U-Haul out in my driveway. "Yeah. I did. Just yesterday, actually."

Her smile faded. "Wow. That's a shame. You know, I would really reconsider. I've heard that things really do go bump in the night within this house."

I faced her. "Do you know a lot about this house?"

She looked down at her fingers and scraped around her nails. One of her long sleeves had pushed up slightly and I noticed little white scars on the inside of her wrist.

"I thought I knew everything…" she mumbled. She did a double take around the room. "You really changed things up."

I bent down to pick up a dropped shirt. "Excuse me?"

"The room. It's changed a lot since you moved in." Her eyes were alight with amusement; almost as if she knew an inside joke I was unaware of. "I knew the girl who lived here before you. She was great. Don't believe all that stuff people say about her stealing babies. That's bullshit."

I pulled a hanger through my shirt and placed it on the rack within my closet. "Do you know what happened to her?" I asked without turning around. She scoffed.

Weird how the sound reminded me of yesterday when I had first seen this room…

"No. But she didn't take her mom's child." I turned around and nodded, giving her a small smile. Whatever floats this chick's boat.

"You shouldn't have moved here, you know. Horrible things happen to people who do."

This girl was starting to freak me out. What did she know of my house? I was still trying to process how she even got in!

I pretended to organize my bookshelf. It was just too uncomfortable to not do anything while she stared me down from the bed. "I didn't have much more of a choice. Believe me, I wouldn't have stayed otherwise."

I saw her smirk from the corner of my eye. Upon seeing her stand, I turned back around and saw her by my doorway again. "Good luck."

I was confused. Was she talking about my unpacking? "Um…good luck with what?"

"The house."

And then she left.

Gone.

Poof.

Such an odd experience. I wasn't sure if I had liked or disliked the girl. She seemed strange to me. I hoped I wouldn't see her again too soon, for I was sure I would eventually. I hadn't even caught her name.

"Knock, knock." I looked up and saw my dad.

"Hey, did you just see that girl that left my room? What's up with that?"

My dad looked down the hallway and then back at me. "What girl?"

I rolled my eyes. "The girl that just left. Little shorter than me… long hair. Didn't you see her?"

"No…" he said slowly. "I just came up the stairs and I saw no one."

"What? You mean she's still up here?" This chick was freaking creepy! Not only had she entered my room uninvited, but she was still snooping around my house!

I rushed to my door, very nearly making it past my dad. But he blocked my way.

"Hey, take it easy there, kiddo. I'm sure I just missed her."

"But what if you didn't? What if she's still up here?"

My dad looked real long and hard at me. I wouldn't be surprised if this were the moment he was finally evaluating my sanity. "Wait here and I'll look."

I watched as he went down the hallway and checked each and every individual room. He even looked behind some of the furniture and under my brother's bed.

When he came back, he was smiling. "See? No one."

"That's so weird. I'm not making it up, I saw-"

My dad held up his hand. "No need to explain. I believe you. All I'm saying is that I must have missed her. That is all."

I frowned before turning back around into my room. My dad followed me inside and peeked around. "I like it. It has you written all over it," he complimented. I grinned.

"Thanks, dad."

He walked over to one of my windows and stared down into the street. From where I was standing, I could just make out my brother standing near the van, pointing to places and ordering people of where to put the boxes. The kid didn't even bother to lift one of his own fingers other than his pointer one.

Such a douche.

"So what did the girl want anyway?" my dad asked.

"Eh… nothing, I guess. She just sort of looked around and basically said how moving here was a bad choice."

He turned around, surprise written within his face. "She did?"

I nodded. "Yeah. But she was kind of strange, so… I wouldn't take it too much to heart. She's probably one of those people who just sit and watch ghost hunters all day. She seemed nice, but… just strange. I didn't even learn her name."

"Hmm."

"But somehow she knew mine… how is that?"

My dad shrugged. "I can't even begin to know. Maybe she talked to Connor."

I doubted it. What girl would walk within twenty feet of the guy? "Maybe."

My dad clapped his hands together. "So! Are you ready to face the rumors? Tonight is the night where you finally decide if you can take sleeping up here in your own bed… however, choosing to reside back into your sleeping bags below in the living room is still not a bad choice. I won't judge you."

I was nervous for sure. No matter when I decided to stay in my own room, I knew I was going to be in for a long night. Plus, choosing to stay in my own room would also spare me the torture of Connor's taunts.

I gulped against my will. "I think… I think I will stay the night up here. It seems, well, a bit more welcoming now that all my old stuff is out of its boxes."

"Great!" He grinned. "I'm not going to give in and order pizza again tonight just cause I don't feel like cooking. I'm going to fix lasagna. Sounds yummy and it will get the house smelling like food all night!"

I laughed. "Any smell has the power to be better than the old musty one in here," I joked.

"Oh! I'll have to add that to my list of things we will be needing. Air fresheners!" He then half jogged out of my room and down the hallway.

I took my empty boxes and broke them in before carrying them out and down the stairs. I didn't want to go outside in the cold, so I left them by the basement door with some others. It was then that I realized I had never been in the basement yet.

Feeling it would help me to overcome the fear of my own house, I opened the door and glanced down.

It was very dark and creepy. I could see the steps leading down into the room and a little bit near the end of the stairs, but that was all. I couldn't see beyond the little ray of light I had made with the opening of the door.

I reached for the light switch and flipped it on, only to find out no lights reacted. Great.

I took my first step, my foot lifted from the ground, when a southern voice shouted from behind me.

"_What_ in god's _name_ are you _doing_, child?" I spun around, nearly falling backwards into the dark abyss below my feet.

An older woman was standing before me, her blond hair up in a bun-like hairdo. One curled piece lay on her forehead.

Heart pounding like mad, I squeaked, "Who are you?"

"That," she drawled, "is none of your concern at the moment. What on earth were you planning to achieve on walking down in there?"

Uh, seeing my whole house would have been a perfect example, although I didn't dare to voice it.

She wore a scowl on her face and her eyes glinted cruelly.

"There is nothing but disaster down in there, and it would do you good to stay out of it." What was this lady on?

"I'm sorry to be so rude," however, I kind of wasn't given the way she was treating me, "but since I am living here now, I think it's fair to say I have the right to enter my own property."

Her eyes narrowed at me. "Well, don't say I didn't warn your little unproductive self." She flipped her hair. "I'm Constance, your new neighbor."

Great. More neighbors.

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"Where are your parents, girl?"

I gestured to the kitchen. "My dad should be in there preparing dinner. You can go see if you'd like…"

With that, she was off. I looked back to the basement and then shut the door. I decided to save that adventure for later on. I was more interested in what was going on in the kitchen at the moment.

Right on cue, a few of the floorboards creaked as I walked down the hallway to the kitchen. As I approached the door, I peeked in and saw not only my father and Constance, but also someone with red hair. I walked in.

"Evelyn!" my dad called. "This is Moira and she is going to be our new maid for awhile. She was here earlier and offered to cook, so long as she would be able to continue."

The meet and greets today were just never ending, weren't they?

I looked at the maid. She wore her hair up, much like Constance, but in a more modest way. Her bright red hair was odd to see on a woman of her age, but it somehow fit her. One of her eyes was white, immediately indicating the blindness that no doubt came along with it.

She was already pulling out pots and pans to start our dinner.

I smiled and waved. "Hello, Moira."

She smiled back. "Hello." Her voice was so light and sweet. Out of all the people I had encountered today, I'd say she'd have to be my favorite. Other than the mover man who had helped carried my boxes.

Constance was annoyed. "Yes, well, perhaps we could talk somewhere a bit more… _secure_ from eavesdropping?" She eyed Moira disdainfully. "Maids are the start of all problems and gossip."

She was horrible! And she even said it all in front of Moira herself! Moira didn't even seem to notice, but I was sure she heard.

My dad, realizing the tension between the two of them, offered to take Constance's conversation into the study. I stayed in the kitchen.

Sitting down on one of the barstools, I rested my elbows on the counter and watched Moira cook.

We didn't say much to each other, but I would catch her smiling at me every now and then and I would respond with a smile of my own. I liked Moira. Her presence was comforting.

"Would you like to help me chop some of the onions, Miss Evelyn?"

"Sure." She smiled while handing me one of the kitchen knifes. She continued to prep the remaining side dishes as I took my place in front of the cutting board. I had just finished chopping the onions up when I felt another presence enter the room.

"Something sure smells good," my dad said. "She's not being a bother to you is she, Moira?" he teased.

Moira turned around, rubbing her hands on her apron. "Oh, heaven's no. She's a little angel."

I flashed her a wide smile and thanked her for keeping me company before excusing myself. I really wanted to see what was down in that basement before it got too dark outside. I don't think I would be able to find the courage to do it otherwise.

As I passed by my dad, I felt a sudden curiosity. "Hey, dad, what did that lady Constance want?"

He just shrugged. "She just wanted to say 'Hi', I guess, and that she will be checking in on us periodically to see how everything's going."

I frowned. "Weird." I walked out the door and made my way to the basement. I opened the door for the second time today, the hinges squealing as I pulled on the handle. Taking a large, self motivating breath, I took my first step.

Each step made me cringe, for the floorboards creaked like no other. It was almost identical to the situation you find yourself in when everyone in the house is in bed, except for you, and every little noise feels like a hurricane crashing through.

I kept my eyes downward and focused on my feet, so as not to trip and fall. Once I made it to the bottom though, I felt cold. Not due to a change in temperature, but because I was on edge and wary. I was also feeling pretty creeped out coming down here, already beginning to regret my decision to do so.

Suddenly, a loud scuffling noise came from within the darkness.

All the air that had been residing within my lungs went rushing out and it felt like I couldn't breathe. My heart had taken off, sprinting into panic mode and my body was now frozen in shock.

My hand shot out to grab onto the railing. My eyes were wide and trained on the darkness in order to detect any traces of movement.

"W-w-who's t-there?" My voice was shaking so bad.

I could see a form coming toward me and I backed up, prepared to run out of there like the speed of light.

As the figure got closer, it suddenly stopped right before entering the pool of the light surrounding me from the open door.

I could tell that whoever it was in front of me was a lot taller than me and most likely a guy in the way he was built.

The person took a step and I waited for the inevitable.

"BOO!"

I screamed. I ran. I high tailed it out of there like nobody's business. My hands pulled at the railing to help get me up the stairs faster and out of the basement. I didn't even take the time to shut the door properly.

My feet lost their footing a couple of times, but I regained it just as quickly, not caring if I was sliding all over the place. By the time I had made it to the living room, I was shaking so much I couldn't see straight.

Footsteps came running after me. "Haha! You should have seen your face," my brother wheezed. "That was freaking priceless," he laughed loudly.

I shot him the dirtiest glare I could muster, which only caused him to laugh some more.

"You are such an ass!" I screamed.

My dad rushed into the room. "What is going on in here? I heard screaming and cursing and everything!"

"He," I snarled, "scared the shit out of me down in the basement!" My finger jabbed in Connor's direction.

"You should have seen her face, dad, it was hilarious!" He acted as if he were wiping away tears.

My dad looked between the two of us and then motioned for Connor to follow him. "Come here. Leave your sister alone and help me finish unpacking."

Connor was still snickering as he passed me and I whacked him on the arm. I hope he got a bruise later.

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><p>So, not much happening as of yet. Just meeting some new neighbors, no biggy. ;) I'm still trying to get the characters more situated in their new home, *wink, wink*, but I think it's safe to say that the next chapter will be alot more... fascinating.<p>

I hope you are still enjoying the story! I approve of any type of criticism, good or bad. Plus, it helps me to write a better story for you! :D

Leave me a review? :)

-Natasha


	3. An American Boy

Finally, chapter 3! :) Sorry for such a long wait. It seemed I was either always working or always studying/doing homework the past few weeks. I actually had some days where I wasn't scheduled to work and was so planning on writing, but guess what: My freaking boss called me in and I had time for _nothing_. Gahhhhhh! Last month, I was wishing I had more hours, and now I'm getting way too much. o_O

Sooooo... I forced myself to update for you guys. :) I am so tired right not at 2 in the morning, lol. I'm gonna die, haha.

Seriously. Too bad I don't live in Tate's house. :D

p.s. There's curse words in here! :O

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><p><em>Chapter 3: An American Boy<em>

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><p><em>The gun was prepared to fire, a loose bullet falling to the hard ground. Seconds of deathly quiet silence followed. A final shot was heard all around the library, and it was now my turn to cry out.<em>

_The boots echoed off of the hard flooring. I panicked. They were coming for me._

_I pulled myself further into a crouch against the wall. Beneath the table, I pressed my hands tighter against my mouth. The boots made themselves visible once again before stopping in the center of the library. I could see the person wearing the shoes was perpendicular to me. _

_All was quiet. _

_So quiet, I was almost afraid he would be able to hear my silent crying._

_A book fell from a shelf next to me and I squeaked unintentionally. Bad move._

_The shoes did a ninety degree angle and made their way across the room towards me. My wide eyes watched as the boots stopped right in front of the table I was hiding under. _

_Was I going to share the same fate as the girl before me? Was I going to be shot? _

_Was I actually going to _die?

_The person crouched and I saw his knees. The hand holding the large gun went down to rest on the tile floor, the gun supporting the palm of his hand. The other hand curled under the table and I could see the long pale fingers belonging to my soon-to-be murderer. _

_The killer's shadow indicated they were coming closer to peeking at me, and I screwed my eyes shut and blocked my ears. I ducked my head down onto my knees and waited._

"_Boo."_

I shot up out of my bed. Flashing my eyes to my clock, I realized the night was still young. Only 1:13 in the morning.

I rested my head back down onto my pillow and looked up at the ceiling. I was having such freaky nightmares since moving into this house. Was it normal to have a dream continue from a previous one?

I reached down for the covers bundled around my waist and pulled them back up over my head. I knew I had been right earlier. This night was going to be a long one.

I closed my eyes once more.

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><p><em>Creak.<em>

I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I dreaming?

_Creak._

My eyes opened to stare into the darkness.

_Creak._

Slowly, I pulled my covers up over my head and didn't move. I knew what that creaking was. It was the floorboards.

For a long time, nothing happened.

It was so quiet; I could almost hear a soft ringing in my ears. I closed my eyes again and eventually fell back asleep. However, I never withdrew my covers.

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, sleepy head!"<p>

The bright light from outside stung my eyes. "Urrghl," I groaned out.

"I'm going to head off to work, okay pumpkin? Moira made some breakfast for you so go ahead and get it whenever you're ready."

My lids shut my eyes from the world again until I felt a soft poke on my face. "Ehhh, stop it," I mumbled.

"Get up, girl. Don't make me send your brother in here," my dad said tauntingly.

I heard him exit my room and decided to lie in my bed for a few more minutes. Eventually, I pulled myself out from beneath my warm haven, but not without a stubborn fight with my conscious. I sleepily and clumsily made my way down the wooden stairs, the cold immediately shocking my previously dormant feet.

Pancakes, eggs, and bacon awaited me at the kitchen table and I happily dug in. It was the best breakfast ever after enduring such a rough night.

Moira was kind and sweet as I ate and I spent most of my morning talking to her when I wasn't making finishing adjustments to my room and around the house.

"You know, dear," she mentioned when I was staring out of the front window, "you shouldn't act so confined. Why don't you go out and enjoy the day?"

I peered up at the sky through the glass, and noticed how bright the sky was. Few clouds obscured the overwhelming amount of blue.

"That's a good idea," I muttered. "Thank you." I walked out onto the front porch. Sitting on the wood covered top step leading up to house's front door, I watched as the cars went by. A few times, I saw Connor carrying around empty boxes to toss in the trash.

I leaned against the house and, what seemed like the millionth time, closed my eyes.

Constance's shrilly voice broke through the wonderful, natural silence. "Tate!"

Annoyed, I opened my eyes yet again and shifted to aim my gaze in the direction of her scathing voice.

Constance was standing at the end of her front lawn, looking in the direction of my house. From within my peripheral vision, I barely caught a glimpse of a tall head with messy blond hair, nearly the same color as mine, before it disappeared behind the side of my house.

I slowly made my way down the wooden steps of the front porch. Constance locked gazes with me and then ran into the house, leaving her front door open. She was either very forgetful or she had gone back inside to fetch something.

I followed the same path the blond person had around my house, but I couldn't find anyone. I looked behind bushes, trees, under the back porch, even, but there was no sign of blondie.

I made my way back around to the front of the house. Constance's door was now closed, I noticed. As I walked up my front steps to sit on them again, a scuffling to my left alerted me.

Farther down on the porch, a boy was sitting with his back to me. His head hung low and a few of his fingers were twirling around in his blond hair.

"Um… Hello?" I called out, my voice pathetically quiet. Was this the person I had been trying to find? His hand froze in one of his curls and his head turned slightly in my direction, but he didn't fully turn around to face me. "Who are you?"

He didn't say anything, but continued to sit where he was. I stood up and slowly approached him. Normally, this kind of stuff freaked me out. Who in their right mind would willingly approach a random person stalking their property without at least calling the police first? He could be my murderer, for all I knew.

As I neared, he quickly lifted himself up from the porch and spun around to see me for the first time.

The most piercing, cold black eyes stared back into my green ones and I held in a gasp. His eyes were soulless and wary, but full of hurt and anger.

Red stained the lower lids of his eyes, although he had just been crying. Compared to his eyes, his face held no emotion. No expression whatsoever adorned his handsome face.

"Who are you?" I asked again, even quieter than before.

He leisurely blinked. However, nothing was said. Who was this boy? Another freaky neighbor?

His body and shoulders stood tense and rigid. His fingers were curled into his palms, his knuckles a startling white against his already pale skin.

I stole a fast look at Constance's still closed door. "Do you know Constance?" I whispered. I couldn't determine the real account for why I was deciding to whisper, but it seemed like it was the loudest I could get my voice to go.

It was like someone with a remote was controlling my volume and I could do nothing to help it.

He smoothly walked passed me, causing me to unconsciously flinch back against the house. His emotionless features unnerved me and his silence only added to my preexisting uneasiness. He paused for a moment in front of me, turning his head ever so slightly in my direction before continuing on down the stairs and back around my house.

"Wait!" I shouted. I had to talk to him! He seemed so lonely and lost, despite his need to keep guarded.

I ran after him as fast as I could, but my speed just wasn't fast enough. By the time I had reached and turned the corner, he was gone.

Sighing, I turned back around and squeaked when I saw Constance's angry face right in front of me.

"What do you think you are doing?" she asked.

I looked down. I couldn't seem to keep eye contact with her for very long. "I… I was just following someone."

"Well stop right now. As far as you're concerned, you shouldn't be associating with that boy."

"You know who he is?" I accused. Had she been watching me the whole time?

She scoffed. "I should, girl. He is my son."

I physically felt my jaw droop. "What?" I asked sharply. "He's your son?"

She glared evenly at me. "Yes. Stay away from him or I will personally seek you out," she snapped. "I know for a fact you are talking with Violet, and you are not going to manipulate my Tate for your advantage!" With that, she stalked away, never looking back at me as she entered her dear house once more.

What the hell?

Who was Violet?

I made my way back into the house, no longer feeling my want to enjoy the outside any longer.

Moira was there to greet me as soon as I had shut the door. "Don't mind her, dear. She's always been the one to say the worst of things."

I smiled a tiny smile. "Thanks, Moira." Turning away, I stalked up the stairs and flopped onto my bed. The comforter beneath me was soft and warm against my skin and my face sunk into my fluffy pillow.

"What did that bitch say about me?"

I almost fell off of my bed. Spinning around, I saw the girl with the Converse covered leggings again. "What the hell?" I yelled. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Don't ask questions you're not prepared for or want to know the answers to. What did Constance say about me? I'm Violet, by the way."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're Violet?"

After making her way towards me, she sat down on my bed. I scooted back a bit, resting my back against the headboard and staying rigid.

"Duh. Now what did she say?"

I didn't know or trust this girl. "I'm not telling you anything unless you tell me how you got in my house again and why you're here."

Her face became inpatient. "So you're not just another ditzy blond?" she pondered. I gave her an expectant, irritated look. "Fine. So be it. I'm here to see what Constance said, obviously, and you shouldn't be wondering how I came to be in this house when the answer is so obvious; there was nothing keeping me out." She smiled.

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"I think it does. If nothing was holding me back, then the real question you should be asking yourself is how I _didn't_ get back into your house. For all you know, I may not have even left."

I frowned. "You know Constance's son?"

She jumped, her eyes widening. "Whoa, there. Don't get too ahead of yourself. Is that who she was talking about?"

I shrugged, already feeling drained from both today's events and conversations. "I don't even know anymore. She told me to stay away from… what's his name? Tate? And then she said that she knew I had been talking to you and not to mess with her son anymore. She's a lunatic and I honestly don't care what the hell she says anymore. She has such a large stick up her ass, it's not even funny."

It took a moment for my mind to realize what had just poured from between my lips. I was shocked. I had never been such a crude person. Of course I cared how rude or inconsiderate some people were, but I had never gone to such 'extremes.' More often than otherwise, I did not have a backbone to state what I really thought. Why had that changed now?

Violet stared at me for a real long time before she burst out laughing.

I gave her a questioning glance.

She just shook her head. "You're a lot different than I thought you would be. It's nice to know you're not the only one who sees right through her fake act."

"It would be hard not to," I murmured.

Violet nodded before suddenly becoming serious. "She's right you know. You should stay away from him."

I was starting to grow angry. Had they never seen the hurt in his eyes that I had noticed the very instant I saw him? "Why are you guys so against him associating with people? Is it just me you don't want him to be by?" I accused. "Can't he make his own choices?"

Violet shook her head. "No, actually. Every time he makes a decision, it goes horribly wrong and too many consequences come from it. Stay away from him, Evelyn. He's no good."

"That's not exactly your verdict to make."

She looked about to argue, a flash of spite entering her eyes.

I closed my eyes. "Can you please leave now?" When I didn't get a response, I opened my eyes and saw that Violet was no longer in my room.

Phew.

I didn't bother to look down the hall, for I knew I wouldn't see her. I don't know how she gets around so fast, but there was a lot of things that I now didn't know.

I leaned back down onto my bed. My eyes were beginning to hurt, so I closed them, intending to rest for only a few moments.

"_Boo."_

_I flinched farther back into the wall, my whole body shaking beyond belief._

_My hands and limbs felt so cold, almost disconnected from the rest of my body. The male voice chuckled at my pathetic reaction. _

_This was it. _

_This was the moment I looked into the eyes of my killer and prayed for the possibility of an afterlife._

_Could I do it? I couldn't bring myself to raise my head._

_Clenching my fingers firmly around my knees and summoning all of my courage and willpower, I slowly and gradually raised my head._

_My eyes widened and I felt my breath catch. It was Constance's son._

_Tate._

"_T-Tate?" I choked out._

_He tilted his head to the side, a puzzling look crossing his face. Like the one sided conversation on the porch, he said nothing and continued to stare at me with those hurt, angry eyes._

_I noticed him raising his large gun up towards me, and I panicked. I begged. "Don't. Please, don't." My voice whispered. "I want to help you. Please. Don't."_

_His soulless eyes blinked. His skilled fingers reloaded the weapon._

_With the barrel of the gun directed right at my face, I swallowed hard a couple of times and found my voice at the last possible moment. "Tate!" I screamed._

_A deafening sound resonating from all around me and I saw no more._

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><p>This chappie was a bit shorter than usual, but at least it's an update, right? :) There are probably a lot of mistakies in here, so if you find any, I'm sorry! D: I'll try to look for them and fix them!<p>

Did you like the chapter? Did it meet your expectations/what you were hoping for? I tried to have a general idea of how I wanted Tate to enter, and I'm not sure I did it as elegantly as I would have liked, but I was just so darn impatient to update for you guys. ;)

I might go back later and add a bit more to his entrance, but... Idk yet. Depends if you think I should or not. :)

Reviews are precious!

-Natasha


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